


The Night Before

by EnigmaticSplendor



Series: push/pull [2]
Category: The Flash (TV 2014)
Genre: Bars and Pubs, Drinking, Explicit Sexual Content, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-09-07
Updated: 2017-09-07
Packaged: 2018-12-25 00:16:36
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,002
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/12024093
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/EnigmaticSplendor/pseuds/EnigmaticSplendor
Summary: The night turns sideways with one sentence, “Is this seat taken?”





	The Night Before

Cisco’s not begging. He’s not. He’s just asking very nicely for what he wants (needs). Just because he’s (breathless, shaking, clinging,  desperate) doesn’t mean that he’s lost control (yet).

 

But Len knows how to read between the lines, know just the right buttons to push to make him—

 

* * *

 

He’s been stood up, this is a fact, forty-five minutes late with no text or call makes it a certainty. Somewhere between 7:45 and 8:30 he makes the realization and switches from orange soda to hard liquor.

 

It's not a hard choice. The bartender passes it along to him free of charge, “From the gentleman at the end of the bar.” Only to have Captain Cold himself raise a glass to him with a wink.

 

' _Fuck_.’

 

* * *

 

—lose even the idea of control with just the right—

 

* * *

 

The night turns sideways with one sentence, “Is this seat taken?”

 

He's fucking with him. Playing coy just to laugh at him later it's certain. Captain Cold buying Vibe a drink? Sitting with him at the bar?

 

Sounds like the setup for a joke.

 

Either way, he says yes, lets him take the stool beside him and lean in close with those silver-blue eyes trained on him.

 

“So what the hell do you want?”

* * *

 

His nails claw up his back, anything to keep up with Len’s relentless pace, keep himself from falling down too far into it, everything and nothing.

 

Hot breath ghosts against his neck between every sharp nip, every deep thrust that tips him up the bed every—

 

* * *

 

“Do I have to want something?” His eyes rake down his body like he's eating him up piece by piece.

 

Cisco tells himself it's just the alcohol kicking in when the back of his neck goes warm. He nurses his drink, some fruity thing with a little umbrella, anything to distract himself from his own dissection.

 

“You always want something,” he scoffs. As if a known thief wouldn't be known for wanting things, that's the whole point of his profession.

 

Snart just smirks, looking a bit too pleased with himself, “Are you going to argue with me all night or are you going to play nice?”

 

Cisco rolls his eyes, “I’d hardly call this an argument,” But shrugs, turning slightly in his spinning stool to face him, “What do you want?” He repeats.

 

Snart doesn't answer, just gestures to the bartender to bring him a beer and a few shots of whiskey, his usual.

 

“I have some time on my hands tonight. Idle hands...” He lets a hand brush his thigh, “Looking to stay out of trouble tonight.”

 

“You out of trouble?” It comes out more breathless than Cisco means it too, a bit too high with the edge of something he doesn't want to name, “I'll believe it when I see it.”

 

The night is still young.

* * *

 

—holds his hands above his head, groaning in his ear deep and low, promising him everything, everything—

 

* * *

 

“I could be persuaded to, with the right incentive of course.”

 

“I don't have any money if you're trying to rob me.”

 

Snart settles a hand on his thigh more firmly this time, “I'm not interested in money…”

 

“This--,” he swallows thickly, “-- this isn't funny.”

 

“I'm not laughing, am I?”

 

This is fucked. Too fucked.

 

“What?” Everything feels too loud all of a sudden, he couldn't have heard that right, absolutely not. Granted Snart didn't seem like the joking type, but at another’s expense? He's capable of it. Probably would relish in it.

 

“You and I both know what I mean.”

 

The clock ticks on, hesitantly.

 

* * *

 

It's not like him to do this, to be like this. He can't blame it on the liquor when he lets Len kiss him, can't say he was out of his mind when everything is more clear than it's ever been.

 

He can do this, just once, and never again, he'll think to himself as Len hauls him up against his front door. Just for tonight and then tomorrow he can act like it never happened.

 

(Act like he didn't need it.)

* * *

 

Snart’s hand slides up higher on his thigh, thumb pressing in just so, on a spot that makes all the air rush out of him. He has to stop himself from breathing too hard, has to hold his ground and not look away, not close his eyes even for a blink.

 

“W-what’s your goal here?” Cisco's voice cracks, mind split unevenly between his head and where Snart is still touching him. His face is flushed now, ears definitely pink with embarrassment.

 

“I’d be more than happy to show you.”

 

“Okay.”

 

' _Fuck_.’

 

The ice clinks in his drink, melting down with the heat of his hand.

 

' _Fuck_.’

 

* * *

 

There's a moment when everything changes for him, the dull light of the corner lamp illuminates them both just enough that they can see each other's eyes, just enough that Len can watch him break apart into nothing beneath him.

 

He's slower now, deliberately thrusting just deep enough, just slow enough, to make his eyes water, his thighs tremble. Cisco's not going to last long like this, this is a fact that he knows all too well.

 

Before long he'll be a useless puddle under him, passed out cold or panting like he's drowning. But for now, Len is kissing him again, holding his thighs open while he keeps a steady rhythm.

 

' _Please_ ,’ he wants to beg, ' _Please, please._ ’ he has no other words to offer, nothing else to give but his breathless moans and searching hands.

 

He wonders what he must look like right now, or rather he tries to, Len is determined to keep his mind empty empty empty. Every movement and touch is dedicated to, “Making that head of yours go quiet.”

 

He presses their lips together once more, kissing Cisco's sweet, swollen mouth with a tenderness he didn't know he was capable of.

 

And then he doesn't know anything anymore.

* * *

 

The night ends right when it's ready to and not a moment sooner.


End file.
